Going Rogue
by Rickmanlover24601
Summary: SSHG one-shot. Hermione finds a new hobby in submitting articles to a French publication. She hones her French skills with the help of an unlikely friend at Hogwarts. But what else will Hermione discover about her tutor?


**Going Rogue**

Hermione Granger was the youngest Professor at Hogwarts since Severus Snape. After the war, everyone assumed Hermione would soar to the tops of the new Ministry but while she looked as if she held herself together, she still felt broken inside.

It had been a year since the war, and many were still coming to terms with the horrific amount of loss. The castle had only just been repaired and reopened the prior term. Hogwarts had been the first place where Hermione had felt loved and needed. What she needed now was time to heal, away from the limelight, a place to lick her wounds in private.

Hermione was surprised at the first staff meeting to see that Professor Snape had returned to teach. She had thought he would want to be far away from anywhere he could associate with the years prior to the war. But then again, everyone was surprised that Hermione had opted to be a hermit in Hogwarts rather than a progressive woman in power.

Hermione enjoyed her work at school. It was the perfect place for her, surrounded by knowledge, learning, and books. She had a few social events with the staff and other times she was able to wander the halls, alone with her thoughts.

On one such occasion, she encountered another lone wanderer out after hours. She almost deducted house points until she realized it was Professor Snape. He gave her a gruff nod of greeting and passed her by.

Hermione watched him go, feeling for once that she wasn't the only night owl with scars to hide.

/

One day, Hermione was minding her business in a corner of the staff room, waiting for the other professors to enter. She was currently, slowly, making her way through a new magical science magazine.

When Snape entered, he glanced her way and noticed the title. La Société de médecine, psychologie, et recherches—MPR publication trimestrielle (The Society of Medicine, Psychology, and Research- MPR quarterly publication)

With a quick "hm," Severus sat in the opposite corner and waited for yet another pointless meeting to begin.

/

The next time Hermione encountered Snape in the hallway after dark, he nodded her way and muttered a succinct "Evening". Hermione nearly walked into a suit of armor.

/

During the next staff meeting, when Hermione had finally made it to the last article in her French magazine, Severus sat next to her. "Interesting, is it not?" Hermione nodded and was about to ask him about his interest in the magazine when Professors Hooch and Vector walked in. Severus settled back in his chair and resumed ignoring everyone in the room.

However, that night, Severus began his walk from a different direction and came alongside Hermione, matching his strides with hers. "So what made you begin reading MPR?"

And thus began a long and interesting conversation on the merits of the magazine and a discussion on one of the latest articles. Their talk lasted well into the early hours of the morning and by the time they both said goodnight and went their respective ways, they had completed three laps of the castle and the sun was beginning to rise over the Black Lake.

/

Having finished reading the MPR magazine, Hermione spent the next free period trying to compose a letter to the editor. She was only just beginning to learn French, and while she was quick learner, she had yet to master all the nuances of writing the language. She brought along her parchment and quill to the staffroom and tried to finish up her letter before the next meeting. Severus sat beside her and leafed through her copy of the magazine while she became ever more frustrated with her writing.

Severus leaned over and quietly corrected one of her sentences. "It's 'traumatisme psychologique'", he whispered in her ear.

Hermione's eyes widened as she stared back at him. Severus merely straightened up and turned his attention to Minerva.

/

After writing to the editor and receiving a positive reply, Hermione decided to indulge in her extra curricular studies, French lessons, and correspondence almost every day. Before long, she was in constant conversations with one of the frequent writers. His nom de plume was Professeur Rogue and he was by far the most interesting, knowledgeable, and forward thinking of all the contributors.

After a few months, her French was improving drastically, and she had even submitted an article of a small study of her own.

When it was published, she showed the article to Severus who was pleased for her success and offered to help her with any further research. She readily took him up on his offer as they had become close after several conversations at night and in the staff room. Once she had discovered that he knew French, Hermione had been only too happy to practice speaking the language during their night time walks.

She wouldn't admit to herself that the sexy baritone of her former professor became infinitely more alluring when he spoke to her in French.

/

Hermione started out at the beginning of the year walking at night to clear her head, to try to keep the nightmares at bay, the thoughts and images that came to her each night when she fell asleep. But now, towards the end of the year, her nightly walks with Severus were the highlight of her day. Sometimes they would argue over theory, discuss research, have interesting or witty conversations in French, or just be silent together. Hermione felt, despite everything, that her wounds were slowly starting to knit together. She took a silent strength from the tall dark man by her side. And she felt that he too took some kind of strength from her friendship. Or so she hoped. He was certainly more relaxed around her, and even made her laugh occasionally with his dry, irreverent humor.

One night, they were standing in a courtyard, enjoying the warm breeze blowing. Hermione felt relieved that the school year was nearly over but at the same time, rather sad. Her nightly walks with Severus would soon come to an end once she moved to the small apartment she had picked out for herself in Edinburgh. Though she knew she would be returning for the next year, she was unsure what Severus had in mind. And if he did return, would he still want to spend time with her?

"Hermione, is something wrong?" Hermione jumped slightly. She hadn't realized he had been studying her profile.

"Oh, no. It's just bittersweet that the school year is ending."

"I can't say I have ever felt that myself… I'm usually busy containing myself from dancing with glee as the students walk down to the station." He remarked with his usual serious tone. He smirked as Hermione let out a chuckle.

She turned back towards him, and surprised herself when she noticed she had sought out his hand, placing hers in his larger, calloused one. "Mostly, I'll miss you." She whispered quietly.

Severus didn't know how to respond. Had he heard her right? Could she possibly miss _him_?

"Will you write to me?"

Severus nodded.

"In French?" She smiled up at him.

"Bien sur, ma Cherie." Severus quietly answered back.

Hermione let go of his hand and turned back to look out at the stars. She shivered when she felt Severus step up behind her. Hermione leaned her head back upon his chest and closed her eyes, trying to memorize every feeling, every detail of this most special evening.

/

After two months of constant letter writing to Severus, along with submitting many more articles to MPR, Hermione was as eager to return to Hogwarts as she had been as a student. Perhaps more so. Severus and Hermione had not had a moment over the holidays to meet up, so she was rightly worried about seeing him again. However, she also had a large case of butterfly soup in her stomach as she stood looking at her wardrobe the morning of her return.

Hermione never thought she would be the kind of girl to fuss over her outfit for a boy… Although, one could hardly classify the enigmatic Professor Snape as a boy.

As it turns out, that man had also spent a little extra time on his wardrobe that morning. His robes were not so different as to attract any attention, but as Hermione greeted him in the staff room before the rest of the teachers joined them, she could tell his clothes were of a finer quality than usual. Hermione reluctantly turned her attention to Headmistress McGonagall, as a feeling of hope welled inside her. She just knew this was going to be a great year.

/

And a very good year it was. By the Christmas holidays, staff and students alike were convinced Hermione and Severus were an established couple, even though the two of them tried their best to be discreet and were absolutely convinced they were only close friends.

Boxing Day found them both waking up, slightly disorientated, in each other's arms in Severus' bed.

Hermione blushed. "I suppose Minerva will have a good new years. I think Flitwick bet her 50 galleons we would never get together."

"Hmm…" Severus growled, having not yet discovered the secret to being verbose first thing in the morning.

"Of course, I certainly won't be telling anyone…our…little secret…" Hermione whispered as she feathered kisses along Severus' neck and down to his chest.

"Mmm…" Was Severus' reply.

/

Towards the end of January, Hermione woke up early in the morning, feeling rather chilly. She looked over and noticed Severus wasn't in bed, but the light from the living room was shining under the bedroom door.

Hermione threw on her dressing gown and padded out to where Severus was sitting by the fire.

"Severus…" She leaned over from behind his chair to see what he was working on.

"Sorry, Hermione. I just remembered I have a deadline first thing in the morning. I won't be long."

But Hermione's attention was focused on the parchment Severus had been scribbling on. She started reading a fascinating take on the subject they were both most interested in, Wizarding PTSD. But before she got very far, a lightbulb went on inside her brain. She straightened up and walked around to the front of Severus' armchair. "Severus…" She frowned at him. "Are you… are you Professeur Rogue?"

He slowly nodded.

Hermione smiled and shook her head. "I should have realized…why didn't you say anything?" Severus didn't answer for a few moments. "Why didn't you want me to know?"

"You were so fascinated… you found _him_ so interesting and I thought…" Severus trailed off. He really didn't want to admit his weaknesses even to Hermione.

"You thought I wouldn't be interested anymore if I knew he was you…" Hermione knelt down on the floor and placed a hand on Severus' knee.

"May I read your article in the morning?"

Severus nodded, still unsure of what she was thinking.

"Then when you're finished here, you can come back to bed and I'll show you just how… _uninteresting_ … I think you are." She planted a kiss on his cheek and swept back to bed.

/

When Severus entered the bedroom an hour later, Hermione was fast asleep. He smirked to himself and climbed in next to her. He really was one lucky bastard.

Hermione stirred. "Mmm, Severus… I didn't meant to fall asleep…" She muttered as she curled up next to him.

"I didn't mean to take so long." He wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of head.

"Severus…"

"Yes Hermione?"

"Why Professeur Rogue…"

Severus chuckled. "I'll tell you in the morning. Go back to sleep."

Hermione didn't need any further convincing. She sunk back into slumber. Severus closed his eyes. "I promise I'll always tell you everything… toujours…."

* * *

*Translation:

Bien sur, ma Cherie: Of course, my dear

Toujours: Always.


End file.
